But now, a salve to his conscience, he said, "After three years, a decent person maybe shouldn't just disappear without some explanation."

"Sometimes maybe the decent person needs to. Maybe he needs something else."

"Still."

She reached across the table and briefly touched his hand. "Okay," her voice was gentle, "you were a shit. But you're here now because I called and said I needed you. So let's call it even."

Hardy nodded. "Even it is." He put his mug down and reached into his briefcase for a yellow legal pad and a couple of pens. "Now, at the risk of ruining our new and hard-won equilibrium, I've got to ask you a few more questions."

She backed her chair away from the table and crossed her legs, holding her mug in her lap. She wore shorts that flattered her legs and a salmon-colored, sleeveless pullover. "Does this mean you're my lawyer?"

"Not yet," he said. "Maybe not ever, if they never charge you. But either way, I'm going to clear it with my wife first. It's one of our rules. Murder cases can be hell on family time."

Catherine sat back and crossed her arms. "You've really changed, haven't you?"

"Most of us do, Catherine."

"I don't know how much I have."

"I'll bet more than you think. You've got a family, and after kids the whole world is different."

"With the kids, yes." Hardy noted the omission of Will and wondered exactly what it meant in this context, but this wasn't going to be the time to pursue it. "But assuming that your wife…"

"Frannie."

"Okay, assuming Frannie agrees, and if I become a suspect…"

Hardy shook his head. "Too many ifs, Catherine. Let's get specific. Why did you go and visit your father-in-law that day?"

"I told you. I was worried about the college money for the kids."

"I'm sure you were, but why that particular day? Had something changed? Did Paul and Missy move up their wedding day or anything like that?"

She twirled the mug before looking up at him. "Maybe it had just been building up and suddenly I needed to know for sure. And…"

"And you're trying out how that answer sounds on me?"

The tone-unexpectedly sharp-stopped her. She shot a glance at him and took in a quick breath. "No. No, I'm not doing that."

"So there was no reason? Nothing different that day from any other?"

"Like what?"

Hardy lowered his voice. "Well, for example, your husband was out of town."

"He was fishing down south."

"That's what you said on the phone earlier. So maybe you had a little more time to yourself to think about all these money issues?"

"Right."

"And you suddenly needed to know Paul's plans?" "Right." She thrust out her chin. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm just asking you questions and listening to how you answer them, Catherine. How are you and your husband doing?"

"Fine." The defensiveness unmistakable now. "We're fine."

"No problems?"

A pause, then. "Everybody has problems, Dismas. Nobody's perfect."

"I didn't say anybody was. I asked about you and Will."

Her eyes went to the doorway, then looked Hardy full in the face. "We're not great."

He leaned in toward her, his voice barely audible.

"Catherine, nobody's indicted you yet. Maybe they never will. And maybe you're completely, factually innocent…"

"I am. I didn't do any…"

He raised a palm. "But if they do arrest you, if you wind up going on trial for these murders, you won't have any secrets. Everything comes out. And getting surprised in the courtroom is the worst bad luck you can imagine."

He drank coffee. When he spoke again, his tone was more conversational. "But as I say, there's no indictment yet. We're just covering some possible contingencies here tonight. So we'll leave you and Will for the moment. Let's talk about Paul Hanover. Did you know he owned a gun?"

"Sure. We all knew that."

"And where he kept it?"

"In the headboard of his bed."

"Loaded?"

"Yes. He mentioned it more than a few times over the years. He got a kick out of riling up his daughters, who think weapons are dangerous."

"They're right," Hardy said. "But you did know where Paul kept his gun? And people knew it and would testify to it?"

"It wasn't a family secret."

"So, family members?"

"Yes."

"And you think they'd testify against you, if it came to that?"

This obviously brought her up short. She took in the familiar kitchen surroundings as if suddenly seeing them in a different light for the first time. "Well, no. I mean, Mary wouldn't. We're fairly close. I can't imagine Beth or even Theresa…"

"Beth and Theresa?"

"Will's older sister and my mother-in-law. Not my favorite people and probably vice versa, but I mean, there's nothing inherently negative about knowing where Paul kept his gun, is there? They knew where it was, too."

Hardy looked up from his note taking. "Yes, but they weren't at his house a few hours before he was shot. Were they?"

"No. No, they weren't. I mean, I don't know that for sure, but…"

He waved it away. "Don't worry about that. If they don't have alibis, the police will know soon enough. But was there somebody else?"

"Who?"

"I don't know. You said Mary wouldn't testify against you. I got the feeling you were going to say Beth or Theresa might."

"I didn't say that!"

"No, I know you didn't."

"I wasn't going to say it!"

"All right."

He waited while she worked through her emotions. "This is not about the family," she said at last. "It's about Cuneo."

"Well, no," Hardy said, "it's about everything." He came forward and spoke quietly but with some urgency. "You might not want to talk about it now, but everybody else in your family has the same motive that you do, and if someone among them doesn't like you and you get charged, they might find themselves in an unusually good position to do you damage and at the same time protect themselves. If this is about Paul's money, which seems likely, then it's about their money, too. Okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry. You're allowed to feel defensive about your family. If you didn't, in fact"-he broke a small smile-"I might think something was fishy about that."

The jab of lightness broke some of her tension. "So I can't win no matter what?"

"Essentially right. But all I'm after now is basic, general information." He sat back. "I believe we were on Theresa."

Something went out of Catherine's shoulders. Hardy stole a glance at his watch-quarter to ten-and realized he should wrap this up pretty soon. If the investigation truly came to settle on her, and if he took it on, they'd have all the time in the world. But her relationship with her mother-in-law was already on the table and he wanted to hear what else she had to say about it.

"She doesn't approve of me and never has."

"Why not?"

"I wish I knew. God knows, I've tried to be a good wife and mother and even daughter-in-law, but she's… well, she's a very difficult woman. She's got this one rock-solid vision of how all women should be, and I'm not it."

"And what's that vision?"

"Well, first, they should work. She works. Beth and Mary both work." Catherine stopped and shook her head. "But that's not really it because when Will and I were first together, I did work, and if anything she was more negative about me then than she is now, which is kind of hard to imagine." She sighed again. "I just wasn't good enough for her baby."

"That would be Will?"

She nodded. "The golden boy. He should have married someone with more… I don't know what… ambition. Who maybe would have pushed him harder to get to his true potential. I just weighed him down with a family and stayed at home instead of bringing in an income, so he constantly had to struggle just to make ends meet. Which is why he's never… he's never been as successful as his father."